


Sans Makes Several Mistakes (And The Time Someone Else Makes One For Him)

by Auntie_Diluvian, Pyreo



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse of teleportation for attempted comedic effect, Awkward Sexual Situations, Closet Sex, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Crush, First Time, Indiana Jones References, No seriously so many unfortunate Indiana Jones references, Porn With Plot, Pre-core lab, Sexting, This was basically a roleplay?, egregious lab safety violations, i have a vague idea of what pipetting is for, or at the very least some plot snuck into our 16k words of porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auntie_Diluvian/pseuds/Auntie_Diluvian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyreo/pseuds/Pyreo
Summary: Sans has had hard days at the lab before, but this one truly takes the cake. And his virginity. And some actual cake.--Fair warning, there's quite a bit of perpective changing in this fic because it was basically written role-play style, featuring Pyreo's Undertale OC Cedilla





	Sans Makes Several Mistakes (And The Time Someone Else Makes One For Him)

**Author's Note:**

> Like with Stranger than Friction, this was just kind of a thing we were messing around with and then suddenly it was 16k words long and we felt the need to inflict it on other people.
> 
> [Auntie Diluvian](http://auntie-diluvian.tumblr.com/) \- bolded text  
> [Pyreo](http://pyreo.tumblr.com) \- lighter text
> 
> For reference, Pyreo's tumblr tag for Cedilla can be found [here](http://pyreo.tumblr.com/tagged/cedilla)!

**He missed the wells again. His pipetting hand was shaky this morning, and there were a number of reasons. This sample was going to be a mess, and he might have to redo the whole thing, but right then, he would have been happy just to get it** **_done_ ** **, so he could maybe go hang out in the toilet. For. However long it was going to take.**

**The first reason was the coffee. He had some every morning, and he liked it strong, but somebody had fucked with it that morning, and everyone was a little more tightly wound for it.**

**The second reason was his brother, who had recently taken up crosswording. Fastidiously. Sans’s own fault for putting him up to the challenge; still, it was hard to find his requisite daily hour of alone time when every few minutes, Papyrus’s voice would call out for an eight-letter word, or a six-letter word, or a 5-letter abbreviation. Looking it up on the undernet was cheating, but apparently pestering Sans for help with each of 60-something clues, every single day, was not.**

**The third reason kept going about her business, and then bending over right in front of him, and then cracking jokes about it at his expense should he be caught staring, which he invariably was, because, well? She didn’t wear pants! Or pant-alternatives. He was fairly certain that was a breach of lab safety protocol but he wasn’t going to bring** **_that_ ** **up. Nope.**

**Please, just let him finish this sample.**

"Careful, nerd," she said, in an aggravatingly sweet chime on the way past to the flask cupboard. Those tiny skeleton hands were visibly unsteady. "Coffee getting to you too, huh?"

The general tone for the day had been teasing, but there was a kernel of actual concern in there, too. The faun looked over the available beakers and tapped the tip of her hoof on the floor, then swinging it across the other leg to look down on the lower shelf.

Hey, his fault if he was still looking.

She trotted back and took immediate focus on Sans's bench. God, he'd been trying to get it right for how long now, half an hour? Maybe it wasn't _just_ the coffee. He was tense, it was that much more obvious on a usually chilled out guy like him. And it sure did dull down the day, since Sans was only guy in the lab who liked joking around.

"Whoa, hey! Don't get too close or you'll contaminate y--"

Uh-oh. Okay, yeah, he really wasn't in the mood. She probably shouldn't have called out the error. Trying to look like she had no hand in the matter, she sloped back to her nearly finished setup and didn't look back at him. But did playfully flick her tail for good measure.

**He grit his teeth, and with every ounce of focus he had left, became a pipetting machine for the next minute. Yes. Yes. God, he was at least good at this, at least he was still good at his job he--**

**Took a look at the sample when he’d finished and realized, somehow, going faster had not improved the state of his sample. Let that be a lesson to you, he thought. Never do anything faster than you need to. Never do fast.**

**Shit, he was really going to have to do this again, now. But it was right about time for his break and, hey, he’d been hard at work all morning.**

**Well, he’d been at work all morning, and he’d been hard. Same thing.**

**He already felt a bit better, just from peeling off his gloves.**

**“hey, i’m goin’ on break. just gonna do that whole sample again when i get back, so, i’ll see you in fifteen, or, uh… well anyway. oh, hey, by the way did-”**

**What the fuck** **_, again?_ **

**“what. are you even looking for,” he asked, frustration seeping back into his voice. If he could help her find it, maybe she’d stop doing that** **_thing_ ** **with her tail.**

She bolted upright a bit too quickly. Okay, _that_ one had been an accident - he'd seemed too involved in working to notice that particularly ungainly position.

"Nothing. Pen rolled on the floor."

There was an edge to his voice now that seemed to be lacking in patience. That was new, and honestly... exciting. Of course the notion of genuinely annoying him wasn't funny, but her imagination was extremely able to take that tone of voice out of context.

"I mean, yeah, you better had take your break. You were going at it like a machine just then." Hopefully that sounded halfway reasonable. Complimentary. "All those repetitive motions. Didn't know you had a setting other than 'languid'."

Well, no. What the hell was that.

"I, um. Guess I'm wrong."

Don't look at him, don't acknowledge him, let him go do something else. Don't needle him until he uses that slightly clipped tone again, you idiot, what's wrong with you.

"Don't go back for more of that coffee or you'll end up the world's slowest blur."

**He leaned off to the side and opened a supply drawer, grabbing a handful of pens. Ballpoint, felt tip, blue, red, black.**

**“there ya go. now you’ll never have to pick up another pen in your whole life. you can just let ‘em roll. the queen of pens. filthy rich. in pens…”**

**Half of them went off the edge of the table immediately, clattering on the floor.**

“Well, great. Just go on then, I’ll pick these up myself.” A wry smile followed, maybe a little too self-satisfied. “Unless you wanna stay and watch that too.”

**Cringing inwardly, he got down on his knees to help pick up some that had rolled under a table. It helped him feel a bit less like a complete asshole. More of a partial one.**

**He picked up about half, then braced himself on his knees to slowly rise from the floor, slightly off-balance when he found himself entirely too close.**

**“sorry. that was uh. dunno what that was about, i’ll just set ‘em here on the counter.”**

**One threatened to roll off again and he snagged it out of the air, sweat beading on his skull.** **_World’s slowest blur, my ass._ **

**“yeah, ok, i’m goin’ on break now.” He turned, and clawed at his face, tension snapping it right back to where it had been. “gotta clear my damn head,” he muttered under his breath.**

**He almost made it to the door. He** **_almost_ ** **made it to the fucking door.**

 **For the second time, and it was** **_not_ ** **his fault, it** **_wasn’t_ ** **, the pens ticked and clacked on the linoleum.**

**His shoulders slumped. He turned his head.**

" _Sans_." She gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "Hang on. You seem kind of, uhh... tense." Hopefully, this wasn't weirdly out of line. But, come on. That was the fourth time he'd been given a blatantly clear come-on (right?) and blown past it. Which would, obviously, have stopped her doing it, except that he was still... well. Staring.

"I mean, forget the pens. You look like you could use a... um..." She tugged on him by the lapel of his lab coat just a tad. She'd been going to say 'nap', but then, having left it hanging, maybe it worked better than clumsy words could.

Moving up from his shoulder, her hand brushed his neck and barely made contact with his cheek. Short, velvet fur against bone, solid but warm. The miniscule touch was more intimate in practice than expected.

She wasn't going to lean down to talk to him eye to eye, that would be condescending. His slumping and refusal to look up made him seem shorter than ever. Curiosity was biting. What had him so on edge?

**His shoulder reflexively tensed up, trapping her hand under his jaw.**

**“i’m uh. i’m ok,” he wheezed. “really. nothin’ i can’t handle myself.”**

**Poor phrasing, but true enough, ‘handling himself’ was still the plan. Because, yeah. She was not offering. She was not** **_offering_ ** **,** **_Sans!_ **

**Just messing with him, like usual. That was definitely a thing that got a little less and less funny every day. He was not going to** **_fuck_ ** **his co-worker,** **_come on_ ** **. That was not a real thing.**

**Shit, was she offering?**

**He glanced over and took stock of her mildly concerned expression. Something uncomfortable twisted in his ribs. Up one minute, down the next, always, with her.**

**No, probably not seriously offering, then. Still, the fur on his neck was a nice texture to keep in mind until he could get some privacy. He’d try to remember how that felt.**

**Jesus, was he really that starved for touch?**

Well, that was a surefire no. He’d even flinched, shit. Obviously this was.. Uncomfortable?

Letting him go seemed the safest thing, so she trotted back to her bench, frowning. Jeez, playing nice came out wrong, trying to help came out wrong. Screw it, it’d been long enough - Sans had the right idea.

Time for a break and, hell, if he wasn’t gonna go for that nap, maybe the entire itchy, worn sofa in the break room would be free, because that didn’t sound half bad either.

 **The single working stall in the bathroom had been occupied. He was pretty sure he recognized those sneakers and he wasn’t above bringing the guy some extra special coffee in the future. He could check his vindictive side later, though, when he wasn’t dealing with** **_this._ **

**The bathroom wasn’t exactly the height of privacy, anyway. He knew from past awkward run-ins at office gyftmas parties and a few bragging coworkers that there was a janitorial closet in the break room that was way more soundproof, and even better suited to cleaning up after oneself. He shut himself in and sighed, leaning back against one of the shelves of styrofoam cups.**

**There wasn’t really enough time for romance, so he dropped his pants without ceremony and gave shape to his magic with little fanfare. What a fucking relief, to have a moment of peace and quiet, with nobody hounding him for twenty years dead human pop icons, or dropping... things.**

**There was no doubt in his mind she’d done that on purpose, the last time. The question was, why? What could she possibly be getting out of trying to fluster him? If he wasn’t careful, he could read a hell of a lot into it.**

**Better not. Still, she’d touched him and, well, he wasn’t dead, yet, so of course it had felt nice.**

**No sooner had he shut his eyes than he heard a** **_whoosh_ ** **of air bursting out of the duct-taped seams of one of the couch cushions in the next room.**

**Just his fucking luck.**

**There was a second, softer whoosh and some creaking indicating whoever was in there intended to get comfortable. Then he heard a sigh and a mumble and-- shit, really? Her? Now?**

**He opened the door just a crack, holding his breath in hopes it wouldn’t squeak. He froze on the spot. She looked plenty comfortable, alright. One leg dangling off the couch, one hoof resting on the armrest, both arms folded underneath her head. As he watched, she turned her head and squirmed, arching her back to scoot further down the couch.**

**He wiped some sweat off his forehead with one hand and squeezed his cock with the other.**

Was that sound a door?

She sat straight up, a little blearily. Something had made a noise, but-- god, that was _not_ a good position to be caught in. She wiggled her body back into consciousness and hopped off the couch, grimacing at the variety of creaks it made.

Still, crisis averted. Maybe don’t nod off in high traffic areas. Anybody could have walked in and then it’d be awkward and then there’d be skirted pleasantries and no actual communication for another five months, give or take. Luckily it wasn’t as though the boss tended to mingle in employee areas. That could’ve been the worst possibility there.

A mug held under the tap. Downing the entire thing should be a good wake-up cleanse.

Or, could’ve been Sans.

Well, thank the goddamn heavens _he_ didn’t stumble in. Another incident like that and she wouldn’t even have her one gentle ribbing partner. The best times with him weren’t teasing him, they were the ones when he stuck a pipette in his nose-hole and actually managed to use it and she spilled multiple kinds of acid due to laughing so hard.

She spluttered into the water and coughed trying to laugh at the memory. Well, now her clothes were mildly splashed too. But whatever. After setting the mug down safely where it couldn’t hurt anybody else, a glance across the room caught something. The kitchen closet was ajar.

Surely nobody had been in there looking for supplies silently, that was just the paranoia at the idea of being seen in a position nobody would forget. She trotted over to shut it, after a cursory peek in for reassurance.

**Sheer, blind panic. He couldn’t back up any further. He’d nearly tripped over his own pants in his rush to hide. Great, fantastic, he was going to be fired. And not only was he going to be fired, he was probably going to fucking traumatize Cedilla in the process. She deserved better than some creep mouth-breathing over her in a closet, what the fuck was his problem?**

**Shit. He could always find another job (although maybe not, over a fireable offense of this magnitude), but the prospect of losing face with her had him shaking more than anything.**

**He pulled up his pants in time to cover himself, but not in time that it wasn’t immediately obvious what he’d been up to.**

**The brighter fluorescent light from the break room showcased his shame better than the single dingy light in the closet. His hand landed on something squishy and shrink-wrapped.**

**“hey. do you need. uhh. paper towel?” He glanced at the label. “extra-absorbent.”**

**He stared at the lightbulb until the filament was burned into his vision.**

**“fuck. dils, i am so. goddamn. sorry. i don’t- i can’t explain. there’s nothing to- fuck.”**

**A stack of styrofoam cups behind him finally toppled, pattering softly between two of the shelves.**

It had taken a few seconds to understand all this. That she’d really walked in on... what she’d walked in on. It seemed to go against everything she knew - Sans as the unflappable, the unattainable, the guy who never revealed anything much about himself unless you got him somewhat tipsy, and even then, maybe just the last book he liked. This was the singularly most revealing thing that had ever happened.

The door clicked shut behind her and she switched the naked lightbulb off. She made sure the image of Sans, prone and embarrassed, was the lasting imprint in the darkness. That, and the unused bucket near where he was cowering, which she kicked nearer to him and then flipped over. Gently, she guided him onto it, furry legs brushing against him in the darkness.

That was good enough. A simple flick, and a trio of stars shot up and bumped into the ceiling. The light from them was warmer and more cosy than the electric.

“Sans?”

Just, you know, to clarify.

He hadn’t said anything else, he’d hardly moved. Still had both hands clamped and yanking at his previously dropped pants. She gently prised them away and took a breath. Looked him directly in the eye.

“Down.”

Yes, it was risky, it could be he wanted nothing of the sort, but come on, he could hardly be any clearer if he _did_. All he did was release his grip, and that was enough. He’d already formed a cock to use, that was burningly obvious. And it was incredibly hard to resist.

Baring the tops of his skeletal legs, just barely enough to free it, his cock hovered in front of her face.

God, she’d been _dying_ to do this.

The tip touched her lips in a facsimile of a kiss, which she repeated. Slowly and giving him ample time to make any objection. Holding it there, something warm and wet blossomed at her mouth and almost dripped down before she jerked away. He didn’t need encouragement. This was happening. She sank the tip past her lips and swallowed. _Yes._  

**“golg.” That was probably meant to have been a word.**

**This was, to say the very least, not how he had envisioned the scene playing out, and as such, he still hadn’t finished processing the fear and shame from only moments before.**

**He had to have tricked her into this, somehow.**

**“i’m sorry. fuck, i’m s-ahh-hahh-rry. fuck. I’m-m-mh…”**

**His hands balled into fists uselessly at his sides as she sucked him deeper into her mouth. That got him to stop trying to apologize, at least.**

**His breath short and shallow, he looked up at the stars on the ceiling as if they could offer an explanation for what was happening below. Finding none, but admiring them all the same, he looked down and met her eyes.**

**And that was just** **_way_ ** **more questions.**

**Drop his gaze about two inches south, though, and he could concentrate on the completely impossible juncture of her lips on his cock. What in the goddamn?**

She was taking her damn time, appreciating the flavour of it. It’d give him a while to adjust anyways. She lapped slowly at end of his dick, continuously swallowing the drips and small spurts. Not a very conventional method of transferring magic, but very rewarding. He tasted good. Buzzing with power and a bit of excitement.

This had been _so_ long coming. Always back and forth, not knowing if he was interested or not. Well, that was still up in the air as a concept, but at the very least they could have a moment to themselves in the closet and damn well enjoy it.

She let his cock free and licked at the side instead. She’d actually assumed he’d be smaller than this, for some reason. His thickness was surprising. But _so fucking welcome_ . And that was going to make her damp and sticky _very_ quickly. She had to do something with her hands to keep them occupied for now. One went to his leg, cupping the back of the sturdy bone for support. The other ventured higher, around his pelvis. That let her guide his hips forward and angle his lower body a little.

She squeezed her thighs together and tried to ignore it, taking the head, and then some, into her mouth again. Just enjoy it. Please, please be enjoying it.

**He was going to cum. He had no sense of how long it had been since she shut the door behind her, but if he knew himself, the answer was ‘not long enough for her to be expecting a mouthful of cum already,’ which meant he was going to have to remember how to use words, again.**

**It also meant she was going to stop, and he had learned well enough that good things never lasted as long as he wanted them to. Whatever unnatural urge had compelled her to slink after him into the sleaziest supply closet in the whole building and sink her mouth onto his cock as if catching him with his pants down over her was an okay thing to see on a Thursday morning, was not, he knew from experience, the kind of good thing that would withstand a hurdle such as asking her to stop so he could avoid embarrassing himself.**

**She wouldn't just stop, she'd** **_stop_ ** **.**

**So he held on for dear life, his fingers bass drumming on the overturned bucket as he tried to delay the inevitable.**

**He rocked his hips into her as much as he could, getting so dangerously close. Shit, she really knew what she was doing with the whole-**

**Fuck, fuck, he was right there, he was gonna-**

**He shoved back, the lip of the bucket scraping musically on the floor, completely overwhelmed, gasping with need.**

**“sorry, i uh… had to-”**

The shuffling of the bucket coincided with a moment of panic. Maybe this whole encounter was just as dissonant as the sudden sound, maybe he… was finally tearing himself away because he’d never wanted…

She bit her lip, still tasting that slightly bitter guiltiness that had crept in, and frowned. She stopped herself from reaching for him, in case he really did want an escape. But his expression remained heavy-set with lust, and he was blurting more apologies - no, he wasn’t refusing. Maybe he just needed a moment.

As far as she was concerned this had taken a long time coming - he’d had enough moments.

She cleared her throat. “Didn’t you… wanna come in my mouth?”

The tone of that was completely wrong somehow. It sounded like she was asking him to pass a stapler.

**He gaped at her, uncomprehending, his dick still twitching from being denied release.**

**“well, sure, but.. y’know…”**

**Her expression compelled him to elaborate. Maybe she didn’t know.**

**“‘s only been, uh…” He glanced at his watchless wrist. “uhh, y’know. didn’t wanna surprise you. though i guess i might’a done that anyway, what with the whole...” he gestured to the door and then back to his lap.**

**“so... yeah.”**

**He braced his hands on his knees and shuddered as he felt a thin string of precum and saliva break before dripping to the floor.**

**She wasn’t gone. She wasn’t gone and he would be damned if he let** ~~**her** ~~ **an opportunity like this slip through his fingers.**

**“but hey, if you don’t have anywhere else to be... uh, besides work, i mean, we could, um.” He carefully began shedding his lab coat to hang on a mop handle. “keep foolin’ around, if ya want?”**

**Cool, smooth. The words of a man who was definitely not just trying to cop a feel like he’d imagined since --**

**He’d never go for it if he was her. Then again, she was the kind of person who could collectedly ask if he’d wanted to come in her mouth like she was offering him a glass of water, so he evidently had no idea where her line was, anyway.**

She squashed one hand to her nose and snorted with affectionate laughter.

“You, uh… okay,” she did sound amused, but kept an interested eye on the part of him she’d just been getting personal with. “My bad. Didn’t realise you were after something slow and romantic.” That was sarcastic. She followed his lead, slipping the lab coat off and left in the one remaining piece of clothing she actually wore.

She moved closer to finally close up the space she’d assumed he might want. He was still undressing, tiny fingers slipping a little on the collar button of his shirt, which already showed off that invitingly cute neck.

“I didn’t come in here to talk objectives or set out what is or isn’t off the table. I just thought I’d _help you_ , so.” She knelt down in front of him and sat on her knees. The way she switched between looking up at him, then down to his still-dripping erection stopped it seeming all that demure. “Not a ‘let me do all the work and lose it all over my face’ kinda guy, apparently.”

The erotic charge filling the tiny room didn’t bear talk instead of action. ‘Fooling around’ might imply taking more time, helping each other out, even a make-out session to help things along, but that really didn’t seem to fit their predicament here, and plus, he evidently needed no encouraging at all.

“Shame about that.”

**That was crossing the line, though.**

**“sorry, woah. have you met me? that’s** **_exactly_ ** **the kinda guy i am. however, i’m also a gentleman and usually save that kinda thing for the second closet blowjob.”**

“You charmer.”

She did mean that sincerely. Sans, in general, seemed to be a stand-up guy who tended to keep distance from people rather than get too close. Maybe that was attractive about him, the respect, or maybe it was just reverse psychology, but wanting to see him like _this_ had been a goal-in-progress for a little while now.

But she wouldn’t have thought it would happen this fast. Ongoing, tentative friendship, and then… this.

She was sitting in front of his straining, eager cock. He was sweating, he looked unsure, he was grimacing slightly when the beads of moisture running down his shaft threaded off and pattered on the scuffed floor.

Buoyed by too much sheer enthusiasm to slow down, and since he hadn’t made a move of his own, Cedilla approached him and nudged him into an embrace. Fooling around? Yeah, she’d show him that. She nuzzled under his chin and placed gentle kisses to the neck she found so endearing, possibly because it seemed so fragile, so much less stocky than the rest of him. If he wanted it slow, he’d get it slow.

This was more gratifying than sucking his dick had been, and in a way, it felt more risky. They were already plunging into the territory of a quick office fuck - actual affection was crossing a different line entirely.

Well, he wouldn’t exactly know just _how_ sincere it was.

**That… felt nice. Different.**

**Was he supposed to be doing something with his hands? She was, but she was doing most of the work, to begin with. And to start now would only draw attention to it, but, good god, he'd only wanted to have an ass to squeeze since… forever, and she'd been wiggling hers in his face all morning. It was no choice at all, now that she was close enough, he was just going to have to go for it and hope for the best.**

**His arms just barely reached when he pulled her closer and, in doing so, the tip of his cock matted together a tuft of fur on her belly with its residual mixture of cum and saliva.**

**He squeezed and all of his dreams came true, every last one of the good ones.**

**He laughed, huffing quietly into her ear, dazed.**

**“god, now i gotta wonder why we didn't do this sooner,” he said, growing a bit bolder every second as his fingertips drifted downward to stroke up and in between the backs of her thighs.**

The whimper that came out of her, breathed against the curve of his skull, carried very little remaining restraint.

“Oh _no_ , no--”

She mumbled and forgot him for a second, thighs squeezing together as he explored them. It was too good and too inviting. _Not_ being touched there, not having her ass embraced by his tiny cute hands, was what let her focus on him entirely and ignore how burningly ungratified she felt.

Another tight little gasp. She couldn’t think well enough to parse his last question. His cock was so invitingly pressed to her tummy, he’d shortly find out how wet for him she was, and none of this could happen right now. It was supposed to be about helping him get something done, and there wasn’t time for anything else.

Right now. At least.

As much as she was trying not to think about getting onto his lap properly and letting his thick cock sink in as she went down, getting every inch of him where he was desperately needed--

 _Come on_.

She held onto him desperately, incoherent now, mumbling and dotting kisses along his jaw. Hesitantly, one hand brushed along the front of his ribcage, starting to get acquainted with the grain of the bone and softly plucking at the intervals.

Wriggling to get closer to him trapped his wet erection against her tummy, and if nothing else, it was gratifying to know he wanted more of this, maybe he wanted to fuck her, maybe he’d let her kiss him sometime, maybe he’d let her do a lot of things. Squirming and stuttering, that little damp patch of fur between them brushed up and rocked against him. Every time she’d thought “hey Sans, fuck me,” in passing, to see by any chance if he had telepathy, fell out of mind as the real experience left her shuffling and shy.

 **He had to forcibly shut his eyes tight, cut off at least one of his senses while the others were so overwhelmed. It took all of his composure not to fight her off once she’d started playing with his ribs, the way he did instinctively when someone started tickling him. Like he had before, when she'd touched his neck. This was exponentially** **_more_ ** **of whatever that had been, though. It was too sensitive, too fucking** **_good_ ** **. He wanted more, but at the same time wasn't sure he could** **_handle_ ** **more.**

 **His breathing was so heavy, so erratic and loud, even to him, let alone to her, whose big fuzzy ears probably heard everything, anyway. And so it was hardly surprising to him that she would hear the string of** **_fucks_ ** **that he mouthed, rather than said, as they each carried on a tormented exhale.**

**One thing only kept the corners of his mouth pinned wide, rather than twisted up into the absolutely fried expression he wore on the top half of his face (and god, did he hope she couldn't quite see that from that angle); his fingers were still trapped between her thighs. She'd done that to keep him out, and with any luck, it was for the same reason he was still trying not to jerk his ribs away from her hands.**

**He let his fingers crawl, wriggling inwards until, finally, there it was. The Holy Grail. Although she probably wouldn't appreciate that comparison, and the Holy Grail he'd seen in the movie was less… sticky. And hot. And smooth. And he'd never fantasized about sticking his dick in some moldy old cup before, which was** **_definitely_ ** **not the case, here.**

**Still, he felt he'd chosen wisely.**

Oh god, oh no, no no. Only dimly able to evaluate the reaction her nerves were getting, she felt bad about the twinge of guilt for enjoying what was happening. Jumping into Sans’s closet situation has been an impulsive decision made with a sound mind, but getting herself involved had not been part of that.

Now he was touching… well, god, the area that really mattered here. She hadn’t been prepared for this, really hadn’t thought that he’d turn this all back on her until she’d basically caught him up in this strange challenge to see which one of them would cum in front of the other first.

The short, tufted fingers of one hand clamped into his ribs just to have something to hold onto as a spasm wracked her, body shorting out at his touch. This was too much.

“Fuck--”

Breathy and whimpered, like a plea, but with nothing in mind. He’d been muttering something too, and who knows whether he’d hear her. She writhed on him, wanting and desperate. It had to be clear to him too, in the way they were prolonging it, his decision for it to be not _just_ a blowjob, that they were pawing and mouthing at each other - he wanted something more too, right? Even if it was just curiosity, the same way she was enthralled by the little bits and hollows that made up his surprising bulk.

“Sans--”

The new thrill of saying his name like that and knowing he could hear it.

The rampant heat of the situation alone made her squirm against his fingers, despite it being a terrible position to do anything in. How could she be getting this close, and leave him with his cock - the whole reason they were doing this - grazing on and rutting against her? She gasped and sobered just slightly, groaning in the back of her throat. He hadn’t asked for anything, she didn’t know what he needed. He’d been cursing through his teeth like he was in pain, god, what if he was? It had been a while, what if there was some intrinsic aspect of sex she’d forgotten to do? Or maybe it was a skeleton thing?

Never any answers, only more questions, like always with him.

“Sans, Sans--” God did it feel good to give his name the treatment it deserved. She tried to get his attention, feeling like breathless words were useless, by cupping his cheek with one cautious hand and turning his face to hers. She clenched a little, eager for that hand of his to continue _exactly_ what it was doing. “Sans, are you… are you okay? Please-- oh fuck, Sans--”

**He laughed, a little dopier than usual; generally, he tried to keep the guttural sound of it in check, but honestly, he was a bit too giddy and distracted to bother. “safe to say ‘m ok… fuck-”**

**His ribs sang as she ran a finger so delicately through the gaps, a sharp note that overtook him, gasping and bucking his hips just to be able to rub. His fingers twitched and squeezed, further testing the softness of their discovery.**

**Opening his eyes at that moment turned out to be an awful, terrible mistake. She was so mussed, and he had done that. She looked, and certainly fucking felt, so turned on and he had done that, or he could almost believe that, anyway.**

**The second their eyes met, both concentrating meticulously on each other and yet miles away, one of her hands left his ribs cold only to smear a trace of his cum around and then pump him. His shoulders slumped and his breathing grew impossibly heavier. He wouldn’t last much longer.**

**“‘dils….”**

**He meant it as a warning, but even to him, it sounded much more intimate.**

**He pulled her closer even as he felt he shouldn’t, that he must be missing something. And like that, she was so close, fuck, her face was** **_right there_ ** **, could feel her attempts at regulating her breathing through her nostrils. What if she kissed him? On the mouth? Was she going to?**

**If only her hand didn’t feel quite so good around his cock, if only her pussy wasn’t so slick on his fingers, if only she hadn’t closed her eyes right that second, even if she was only blinking, he might have lasted a few seconds longer.**

**He shuddered as he came, his teeth tingling and his head ringing and his toes curling in his shoes. For a blissful few seconds he wasn’t aware of the noises he was making, but held them in check once he found the presence of mind to do so.**

Those noises, those _noises_ he made were so fully distracting that it took several seconds to register what was happening. He sounded so intense her eyes snapped back open, head still swimming from the way he’d pulled in so close. The fantasy of kissing him with full abandon was an entertaining one that had no intention of going anywhere, not when he sounded like _that_.

Then he was holding it back, yet again, and finally the realisation that streaks of warm goo were coating her stomach, some dripping onto her legs. The explicit goal, and only goal of this venture, that she’d decided in the back of her mind as soon as she’d come in here, but to have it actually happen stunned her with disbelief. Finally it hit her what they were doing.

She tried to keep her grip on his twitching cock, working the pulses with her fingers, because god forbid she mess this up now while he was enjoying it. Her own movements matched the rhythm of his thick spurts splattering her fur. Fucking shit, her hands were almost too small for a dick this size, and it was hard to focus - a small fumble resulted in such a shudder from him that she felt giddy with power. She pressed her nose to his cheek, nuzzling, eager for the rough, sharp edges.

She shimmied away from his groping, twitching hand, no good to anyone now, and squeezed her thighs together. Yeah, _almost_.

“Sans,” she murmured against his skull, and there was something of an admission to it. But that would wait for later. If… he wanted there to be a later.

Either she _was_ thankfully good enough at this that there could be a possibility of more - which was the whole purpose of this very badly planned idea - or he had been severely pent-up for some reason. Most of his cum had drenched her in close proximity, only made known by the timed flooding of warmth against her body along with his grunts. But, fuck it, she wanted a little something out of this too, and gently detached from him to slide down to the floor.

Was that a whine? Oh, shut up, he might very well whine while mid-orgasm.

He came across her chest and shoulders as she settled, in front of his cock, resting with her legs apart and pussy achingly pressed to the cool, blank floor of the closet. It was damp there immediately. On top of everything else this was such a rush, looking up at a half-naked skeleton and wishing he would, well, take anything he wanted. But right now, she hovered with her mouth open, just above his cock, hoping she’d been fast enough that he hadn’t--

Her lips and chin met a hot, sticky mess.

Yes, he could at least finish properly, and yes, at least she could get a taste of him. She took just the tip into her mouth again, hummed, and swallowed the next blast in one, before licking his thick cock at the sides instead, pretending to clean it before Sans spurted again and rendered the effort useless.

That was more like it.

The bobbing stars that had illuminated the dingy room so well - well enough for _this_ \- finally popped out. Darkness sank back onto the two of them, but not completely, because apparently Sans’s cum had a rich blue glow, and she was covered in it.

“How-- how, uh-- uhm--” she swallowed again. “How absorbent did you say those paper towels were?”

**He felt as though underwater. There were words happening. Why were there words happening?**

**Something about paper towels. His eyes focused in the darkness on the glowing patches of fur in front of him. Oops.**

**“you… you, uh… i mean,** **_fuck_ ** **paper towels, you need a shower... or a wet vac. wait... do we actually have a wet vac in here? that’d be real-”**

**A squishy, shrink-wrapped bundle bounced off his chest.**

**“aw, c’mon, it wasn't** **_that_ ** **bad of an idea. eh, your funeral.”**

**He opened the paper towels and handed them over.**

**“do you uh, need help? or…”**

**She was already at work on one of the bigger spots but her hand froze.**

**“i get the impression you're givin’ me a look but i can't see which one.”**

“Would you just..!”

He most certainly did not have as much cleaning up to do, but things weren’t registering properly at this particular moment. “Get towelling. I’m sure we’ve been gone too long. We’d better hope nobody had to get us for anything, and also doesn’t need anything from this closet just yet.”

The heat of the moment, intense as it had been, was falling away and leaving traces of anxiety in its wake. Could they leave without being spotted? Had anyone noticed their breaks had run long? Would she EVER get that bit of goo from behind her ear-- there we go.

How would Sans feel about this after the fact? How should they tackle this?

For some reason, giving someone an impromptu blowjob had _seemed_ like a simple idea at the time.

Cedilla got enough of the stuff off to look presentable from a distance, peeked out for safety, and made the snap decision to be the first one out.

“Give it a minute before you leave.”

And, that was it, that was the last thing she said to him in there, their closet of bad decisions. The blaring light of the main lab made her nearly _cower_ with its scrutiny, knowing it would show clearly how unkempt and wild her appearance now was. Forcing herself not to jog, she made a beeline for the bathroom and resolved to take another five minutes for washing off and straightening up - fur would talk, otherwise.

She splashed her face and took a hard look in the mirror. That had been… rushed, hadn’t it.

**It didn't take long to get himself straightened out, at least physically. Upstairs, he was still mostly crossed wires and some errant frustration he had no outlet for. He couldn’t begin to account for her insistence that he cum on her face when taken with her hasty, almost scolding exit.**

**Not to mention the scent of sex and sweat had easily filled the little closet. A second’s hesitation gave way to his baser instincts and he sniffed his fingers as well. Yup, that too.**

**He spotted a can of air freshener and was in the middle of hosing the place down with some bafflingly titled Kiwi-Mango Ocean Rager when the door creaked open.**

**“Oh. Um. H-hey, Sans, what are you… whatcha doin’ in here?”**

**“...sampling,” he said, spraying some into his mouth. “wow, that's bad. welp, now i know.”**

**Dorf thought that was great, evidently. “Hey, guys! Get a load of this, Sans just sprayed air freshener in his mouth!”**

**“Oh, man, that's hilarious! Hey, Dorf, does he want cake?”**

**“Do you want cake?”**

**“uh, yeah, i’ll take some.”**

**“Sweet, it's Juney’s birthday. I'm looking for some napkins, seen any in here?”**

**Sans handed him the roll of paper towels and followed Dorf out into the break room for birthday cake. Cake would keep him from asking himself too many questions, at least for the time being.**

Since there was nothing particularly suspicious about using the bathroom, Cedilla took a few more minutes extra before being willing to return to the outside world. Mostly because she had a lot of calming down to do, and not that many sobering thoughts to avoid dwelling on the not-so-calm ones.

_Shit, okay, okay, it’d be fine, wash your hands again to make sure they aren’t sticky, and nobody’s gonna be able to tell._

It was, honestly, one of the more awkward positions you could be in as somebody who didn’t wear underwear. The slightest thought back to what they just _did_ could bring those hormones rushing back, and… no, no, no. Business. Work. Flasks! Microscopes.

She sidled back out only to hear the last few bars of ‘happy birthday’, and followed the noise. It was someone’s birthday? Everyone was gathered up, including Sans floating at the back of the crowd as they doled out cake, behind Juney and Falla.

Something tingled in her stomach. A nice literal form of butterflies, ha ha, but it was just Sans’s magic that she’d swallowed. That foreign hum would last a couple hours maybe, a physical reminder of how much of a fuck-up she was.

Dorf interrupted her thoughts with a huge nudge from his enormous arm and waggled a plate of cake towards her with a smile. She began to decline politely, not really wanting to know what that combination might feel like, but shook that off and hastily took the plate - a palette cleanser at the very least.

 **He didn't know how to deal with seeing her in public so soon after, as if nothing had happened and he really had only been indulging his air freshener-related curiosity, so he didn't. He didn't look at her directly across the room, terrified of what people might read between them, although maybe they would see more in his refusal to look at her at all. He shoveled cake in his mouth to avoid small talk with his other coworkers as well. Realistically, there was no danger there but he** **_felt_ ** **as though a “good, thanks, just got a blowjob in that closet over there, n’ you?” was getting fractionally closer to spilling out of his mouth between crumbs with each passing minute.**

**He scooted around her wordlessly, tossed his plate in the trash, mumbled an extra happy birthday, though he was positive nobody else heard him over the chatter, and then he was free.**

**He had never been so relieved to be the first one back to work, and it had never been so easy to focus on the task at hand.**

**Not looking up from his fresh sample, he heard her enter the room, bustle around for a moment, then stop and sigh.**

**He discarded his pipetter tips with a click and braced his gloved hands on the table.**

**“so.”**

**A beat, then-**

**“...So.”**

**“heh, can you believe? no ice cream. unacceptable birthday party protocol, am i right?”**

“Break room doesn’t have a freezer,” she mused, straight-faced. “Although… _we_ do…”

She studied the coolers along the room’s far wall, expression genuinely perplexed, fathoming the probability of someone keeping ice cream in the lab.

“Anyways. So… what’s my, uhm… ranking?”

“huh?”

“Like. Rank up your, y’know, secret workplace…. liaisons. Be honest.” Some hand gestures that are alternately miming an air scoreboard and being vaguely obscene. “Did it come in anywhere, uh, high…?”

**“oh. oh. uh, yeah, definitely, i mean. some of your percentages are still bein’ calculated but i’d say you got a solid top ten spot, for sure. uh, points for style an’ execution, had to deduct a little for attacking me with the paper towels after.”**

**He dodged a pen.**

**“ah, see, there ya go, again. that's only hurtin’ your chances. also, do i need to tell g i found someone who’d benefit from watching the lab safety video again?”**

**“Pff, you just want to subject me to watching him demonstrate the safety shower.”**

**“Yes, was that unclear?” he asked in his best Gaster impression. She snorted and he felt a whole lot better. Inside jokes.**

Just like that, the chatter returned to normal levels. Not completely comfortable, not seeming stunted either. With one admission aloud of what had happened the subject was brushed aside and dutifully ignored. Sans finished his sample. And he was less shaky and more focused, so there was that, at least.

Cedilla let herself be distracted by work for the remainder of the day. Latent arousal didn’t bother her much when there were more important problems brought up by what they did. Either this opened an outlet for the two of them, or it never would after this. God knows what he was thinking. She could crowd hypotheticals in her peripheral thoughts while going to town making notes, and leave the decisions for later.

End of the day at hand, she trotted off to gather her things and resolved to just say _something_ before he left, only to return to an empty lab. Self-consciousness won out. She headed home.

 _Possibly_ it would be better to talk these things through with people _before_ going to town on their dicks, but whatever.

A shower and some warm tea soothed off the last of the jumpiness. Nice to finally have some real privacy. She flipped open her phone just to poke around, idly, and ended up finding Sans’s name in the contact list.

Most of the lab had swapped numbers over time, just for convenience’s sake. She’d never used his.

But now?

She opened the camera just to see what that would look like, and took a snap with a wink and her tongue out. Yeah, okay. Towel in there, hair wet and all over the place. That was his fault, kinda.

She didn’t like to overthink, especially when things were left unsaid. Text overlay.

_C: Glad you had fun earlier. I sure did_

She hit send before allowing any pause.

**For once, he knew the answer to the puzzle straightaway.**

**The surface, he knew, had such a wide variety of geographical features with nitpicky, specific classifications, above and below ground and sea, that there were entire textbooks dedicated to understanding the different types of formations. He’d found one once, in the dump, and had sat for hours poring over it before he’d had to abandon it. Couldn’t bring it home, it was too damp and would spread mold, so it had been lost to him, but he still remembered. The surface had islands as big as countries. Some were countries, even. He couldn’t fathom but for the pictures.**

**But somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he remembered, if not the exact definitions, then he had at the very least a plausible-sounding list of geographical phenomena and a vague idea of what they entailed. He had no idea how to say the word ‘archipelago’ but it was his favorite. Or maybe ‘peninsula’ or ‘butte’ but that might have just been his juvenile sense of humor.**

**Still, when Papyrus pressed him for a three-letter word for an island formed by deposits of sediment atop a coral reef, he could only remember one.**

**“uh, i think it’s-” his phone buzzed and he slumped down further on the couch to remove it from his pocket. “it’s cay….cedilla?”**

**“QUESADILLA? ARE YOU SURE, SANS? THAT SEEMS LIKE IT MIGHT BE MORE THAN THREE LETTERS. HMM, MAYBE IT’S A TRICK, MAYBE THERE ARE HIDDEN BOXES.”**

**“yeah, maybe…”**

**She’d never texted him before, let alone spontaneously sent him a picture of herself. He tilted his phone away from Papyrus, who could reasonably be assumed not to be paying any attention as he was consumed in trying to develop X-ray vision to solve the puzzle… Still. He felt as though, despite being mostly perfectly decent, the decent thing to do with the picture would be to keep it to himself. He wasn’t even entirely sure how to respond, since he was honestly still reeling from earlier that day and… well, okay, surely she didn’t expect him to send a picture back? Because he was not doing that. It wouldn’t be the same anyway. She looked like her and he looked like him, and that was that. But then what** **_did_ ** **she want?**

**He rubbed his eye sockets, trying to clear his head.**

**The least he could do was respond.**

**_s: guess i missed the part where you enjoyed yourself_ **

**That was not what he was supposed to say, but he’d already sent it.**

Tea in hand, giggling at something on tv, she'd gotten distracted from that text after the deed was done. Her phone sat on the plush chair's armrest, where it might as well stay. After all, maybe he wouldn't reply for a while. If at all.

Midway through a sip, the screen lit up. Oh. She gave it a courtesy minute before reaching for the big clunky slab.

The response was... curt. She was so used to reading clues from his tone of voice and body language, but even his lax smile usually put good humour behind statements such as this. But, whatever, he couldn't be allowed to think otherwise.

Just text this time, to respond in kind.

_C: Well of course I did. I got to be alone with you, didn't I?_

Sent. Wait, maybe something to back that up.

_C: You're the most fun person I know._

Better start opening up the compliment barrel in case this went anywhere important. Then she throws the phone aside and scrunches her body away to make sure she waits and doesn't start adding more. No use sounding like a desperate Moldsmal.

**_s: well, when you're right, you're right. you manage to get all that fun out of your fur yet?_ **

_C: Not sure. Do you want another picture to collaborate and confirm?_

**He grimaced at himself even as he typed his response.**

**_s: it’s always good to have your results peer-reviewed don’t you think_ **

**_Oh, Sans,_ ** **he thought,** **_Sans, you gross bastard, once today wasn’t enough? You’re really gonna encourage this?_ **

**But she was offering. He still didn’t have a good read on exactly what and how much she was offering, which made him hesitate, made him chastise himself lest he expect too much or not enough, but hell, if she wanted to keep poking at this thing, then maybe he ought to let her.**

_C: Let me know if anything catches your eye._

Okay, here goes. This has to be obvious enough that he really gets the point, but not too crude just in case. He’s making it so hard to tell if he’s interested and she just wants to _know_ \- she’s desperate to just know. He was the one trying to jerk off in a supply closet, he’s got to be up for something, surely, even if it’s meaningless.

She scoots down, splaying out on the chair a bit more. Pulls the towel aside. She’s naked, not that it means much when her chest is only roughly-dried fur, but it’s the intention that counts.

Camera up overhead, tilted down to frame more of her hips this time, and the best heavy-lidded, sultry, undeniably clear come-hither look she can muster. One hand leaning on her inner thigh, but tastefully out of frame.

That’s gotta do _something_.

**_s: yup very clean_ **

**Tip! Sext like a pro: compliment her hygiene. This will throw her off because she will be expecting** **_some_ ** **kind of comment on the fact that she has just sent you a picture of her naked body. This is a trap, don't do it. Don't do it, Sans. Sans, just look at it, don't say anything. Don't fuck yourself over like this, Sans. She doesn't want you to say- okay, she already knows. Don't.**

**_s: you must have a good soap_ **

**It took nearly all of his restraint not to physically shrivel up into a tiny ball.**

**“OKAY, MOVING ON, I SUPPOSE. HERE'S A TOUGHIE: 5 LETTERS, RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS OR SUBGROUPS.”**

**Sans stood before this escalated too much further.**

**“i’ll be right back.”**

**“I'LL… BE… RIGHT… BACK… SANS, THAT'S TOO MANY LETTERS. HAHA! THAT WAS A JOKE, I KNOW THE ANSWER IS SEX.”**

**“uh, what?”**

**“I FIGURED IT OUT! SECTS!”**

**“oh. great job, man.”**

**He disappeared behind his bedroom door.**  

**_s: sorry, not one of my better ones_ **

**He had to close his eyes to type the next part, then correct his typos because that was the only way he could reasonably type what he needed to. Because it was one thing to let stuff fall out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, it was another thing to have a record of it after the fact.**

**_s: you look great_ **

She’s been sitting there watching these messages roll in, a small break inbetween each one after the first couple, which were clearly a little joke. But now he’s. Well.

Hm.

She can’t pretend not to notice how uncomfortable all that sounded. It’s time to be upfront.

_C: You know earlier when you talked about fooling around? I… didn’t want that to stop after we left the closet_

Pause. Okay. Slowly, because this might be the end of things, the end of being able to entertain ideas about the two of them out of ignorance.

_C: If this or anything I’ve ever done was unwanted though_

Nearly there.

_C: I won’t bother you again_

**_s: yes; me neither; fuck no; bother me whenever_ **

**He decided that would just about cover it. Right? He couldn't be clearer.**

**Someone else probably could be, but not him.**

**But she hadn't sucked someone else off in the break room closet this afternoon, (that he knew of) just him. So, he would do his level best not to put her off any more than he already seemed to have done.**

**_s: what do you uh_ **

**_s: want_ **

**He contemplated whether or not pounding his skull against the drywall would make him a better sexter.**

_C: Well…_

Oh relief. This wasn’t imaginary. She wouldn’t have ever guessed at the start of today that Sans would be giving the a-ok to fuck around with him before the end of it.

A quick flop to soak it in, first. She was more relieved than she wanted to admit.

_C: I can always use more pictures of handsome skeletons_

_C: And if you do, you can get a request. Anything you wanna see?_

**Oh, fantastic, he'd just been thrown right into the deep end. Although, truthfully, that had already happened that morning, but he was still certainly unprepared for the undertaking of trying to make himself look appealing.**

**He briefly considered sending her a picture of his Great Uncle Antiqua, notorious in the family as a bit of a chauvinist, but at least quite handsome for his time, as a joke, but thought better of it. He didn’t have a picture of that crotchety old fart handy, anyway.**

**Maybe if he took off his shirt but put on novelty glasses, they would cancel each other out and make an acceptable picture.**

**So he tried that and promptly wanted to burn his cell phone, so hot that the lens on the camera melted until it was unusable.**

**He tossed the gag glasses across his room where they wouldn't tempt him any more and stared at himself in the camera for a long, silent few minutes as he sat still on the edge of his bed, elbow propped on one knee, cheek in hand and phone staring up at him in the dimness.**

**One of the corners of his mouth tugged upwards at how ridiculous and childish he was being, and he took the picture. It wasn't bad, at least.**

**Having sent it at last, he let himself fall the rest of the way into bed and, as a reward for having done that, opened up her picture again.**

**_s: just, uh_ **

**_s: more_ **

There being a bit of a gap after that last message, she’d calmly left the phone by itself and neatened things up, eaten some yogurt, and whatever else needed doing, all of which could very well be accomplished naked. He wasn’t a fast responder but having asked for confirmation, she had absolute faith that he _would_ respond, and so everything was fine.

Eventually the phone flashed up a received image and she hopped over, nearly bouncing.

Aw heck, now that was nice to have saved. A bit of dimness for modesty, but his eyes were bright and trained on the lens, there were shoulder blades and a glimpse of ribs, it was exciting. Maybe the time that lapsed had something to do with why he looked slightly on edge, smile not really going all the way to his eyes like it usually would, but that too was hard to tell in the low lighting.

Hopefully something she could send would loosen him up.

_C: Wow. You’re sooooo cute_

The bedroom seemed like a necessary backdrop from here on, plus there weren’t as many poses that could be achieved from a chair. She reminded herself to drop the beaming smile that kept on coming back and try to be more artistic.

_C: I hope this works for you_

With the sheets still mussed (in an effortlessly inviting kind of way…?) she propped the phone up for a below shot and sat on her knees in front of it. Looking aside, but with her legs apart, the pose itself was more erotic than what could actually be seen. Although the idea of _touching stuff for him_ was blindingly attractive as a thought, Sans seemed a little too cautious to rush it. And, well, maybe there was a difference between fumbling around in the dark in a closet and giving him these to really _look at_. Y’know. Slightly.

_C: Does this give you any ideas :)_

**It was bad enough that he’d dropped his phone straight on his face when she’d called him cute, but the brief glimpse he’d gotten of the picture before he’d accidentally thrown it had sent the damn thing into the crack between his mattress and the wall. At one point he thought he had it, but then accidentally nudged it tumbling further down the chasm. He ended up having to move the bed away from the wall to get at it, and by the time he had it back in his hand, he was slightly out of breath already. The picture did not improve this condition, nor any others.**

**_s: honestly nothing that hasn’t already crossed my mind several times today_ **

**Several? Several hundred, maybe.**

**_s: but if you’re asking if i’m contemplating anything in particular_ **

**_s: at length_ **

**_s: then yeah_ **

If she wasn’t already warm and starting to remember more vividly their messing around that morning, right now it was rushing back. A picture of him just for her and he’d clearly gone somewhere private to do it. Finally, all that pent-up attraction that had gone nowhere earlier could be allowed to spread again.

She parted the fur between her legs and let the phone fall to the mattress as the first touch proved overwhelming.

“Haaah--”

Picking the phone back up and holding it steady for this was difficult. Getting lost in doing it was not.

_C: I’ve been contemplating a particular length too_

That took a while to type. Another snap, full body, even the emerging stickiness on her hand was slightly visible. The other hand had to stay clean to hit the buttons.

_C: can’t stop thinking about when your handbs were doing this_

**_s:  think we just made the same innuendo but that doesn't even matter bceause_ **

**_s: holy shit_ **

**He exhaled forcefully, sending a dust bunny skittering across the floor. His fingertips tapped at the back of his phone as if he wasn’t sure what he was going to do next. Stared off into space as if there was anything else** **_to_ ** **do.**

**“welp.”**

**With a well-practiced movement, he snagged his waistband under his cock for the second time that day.**

_C: sppeaking of which_

She pulled her hands away and held onto the phone. That build-up from earlier would allow her to skip all the preamble if she wasn’t careful.

_C: maybe I could get another picture. Of your… y’know?_

_C: nothing I haven’t already seen up close_

**_“Right. Sure. Why wouldn’t she want that?”_ ** **he wondered incredulously. He opened the camera again, and having a specific request made it easier. There wasn’t much of anything to overthink. Just a picture of his dick. Simple.**

**Then disaster struck. His thumb, his clumsy thumb tapped on the wrong thumbnail and sent her the picture with the silly glasses. The one he wanted to burn.**

**_s: thatwas ana ccident ufck_ **

**_s: hold on_ **

**Maybe she wouldn’t say anything. He** **_prayed_ ** **she wouldn’t say anything. But he knew her, and he weighed his chances.**

_C: SANS_

_C: SANBS WHAT THE FCUKJ_

She’d been lying back, cradling the phone almost reverently, all ready to have a permanent record of the big blue beast in all its wonder, and… and.

She literally rolled around, laughing so hard it felt like something might burst. Of fucking course. This is what she gets for trying to seduce Sans the Ultimate Fucking Jokester. Cedilla reached for the phone, huffing, only to glimpse the picture again and shove her face into the mattress to muffle the giggles.

He was too much.

_C: you!!!!! Fucker I thought you were into it!! Hhahahahaha_

**_s: i am why do you think i put the glasses on_ **

**The intended picture sent immediately afterward, on the off-chance he hadn’t yet completely ruined the moment.**

_C: oh_

It got typed out on auto-pilot, just as it all loaded in. Her smile vanished and the mirth disappeared. Oh, he _hadn’t_ been kidding. Oh.

It took half a minute to get over the mood whiplash and devote the attention that this picture deserved. Unsurprisingly, it was better lit than the last one.

_C: oh_

_C: man that seems bigger than I remember_

_C: you must have good soap_

That didn’t make any fucking sense. That didn’t qualify as a joke. Good fucking stars, was her filter for saying anything nonsensical _worse_ in text format?

 **He was caught off-guard by** **_all_ ** **of that. The comment about his size sent his head spinning and didn’t leave enough air for him to laugh at seeing his awkward soap comment turned back on him. He wheezed until he coughed.**

**_s: that’s hilarious_ **

**_s: maybe we should compare sometime_ **

**_s: ...i’m not sure what i meant by that but i assure you it was filthy_ **

_C: oh, right, for a sec I thought you meant dicks_

_C: you’d win I assure you_

By now she was curled up comfortably on her side, head on one arm, skimming back to look at the dick picture (which was already saved anyway), but enjoying the irrelevant part of this conversation as much as the hot part.

She grabbed her pillow and squashed it between her legs for now, hands-free but with something to wiggle against.

Fuck, he was… cute. Fuck. Fuck, she liked him.

_C: something maybe I should mention. I don’t know_

...Was she really doing this?

_C: I didn’t just find you in the closet and decide… spontaneously… I_

_C: I mean, I’ve thought about fucking you for a while_

**There was no other way to interpret that. He knew because he tried, instinctively.**

**_s: oh_**  

 **His head grew hot once more and the image of his bedroom quavered before his eyes. Unable to hold back a single second longer, he gripped his cock and began to pump, furiously, hissing through his teeth.** **_Fuck._ **

**But he couldn’t just leave this critical moment at “oh” for very long, so he slowed down just enough to concentrate on using his other hand to text.**

**_s: ive thought about it too_ **

**_s: a lot_ **

**_s: about like right now_ **

_C: Right now is nothing compared to what I’ve thought about for thpp_

Shit, c’mon. Hold it together. The pillow was getting clamped tight. The confession was on a roll now.

_C: uhh a few weeks I guess_

_C: I just wanted to get you alone_

_C: or lock the door for the lab and tell you how fucking sexy you are_

Don’t blush looking at your damn phone. Her cheeks and fingertips felt like they were burning. Another scroll up, as if his cock wasn’t basically committed to memory.

_C: i know how you kept looking at me and I wanted to see if I could make you snap and take me right there sorry about that i just want you to fuck me so bad_

Oh god. What if he thought this was gross? She was trembling and it wasn’t all arousal, but the phone dropped neatly on the sheets and the pillow was kicked away. Shit, he fucking _knew_. Most of it. She exhaled hard with a slight choke and nestled her fingers exactly where she liked them. Ffffuck.

**_s: fuck dils i wanted to_ **

**_s: still do_ **

**He growled as quietly as he could at nothing in particular, or at trying to make this make some kind of sense. But it didn’t need to make sense to make him writhe and hump the air, toes flexing inches off the ground. Typing was growing difficult.**

**_s: fuck can i ca_ **

**_s: can i call you_ **

_C: yes yefs of coursb_

_C: pls don’t expect anything much beyond hearing your ownn name_

This was a new reality now. One where Sans knew her sordid secrets about wanting to jump him and he still wanted more.

It was getting overwhelming, and she buried her face in the bed again, huffing, panting, and grinding as the hand that just typed the message gripped into the sheets for dear life. He could do the call. Just one more thing to do before going to town.

Her phone hummed, the ringtone getting one and a half notes off before she smacked it onto ‘accept’.

Immediately, that hand joined the other between her legs and she nudged the phone with her nose, panting and whimpering slightly.

**He took a few shuddery breaths.**

**“good afternoon, did you know that you might be paying too much for life insurance?”**

“Fffuhhh-ckin’-”

His voice, his real voice, down the line, that caused her legs to flex together automatically. It got her so bad a shock went down her spine. Then the words sank in, slowly, as if she were fighting comprehension in denial of it.

“Are... yooouuu. Fucking. K-kidding me-?”

**“yeah. i uh, didn't know what to say, felt like i should still say somethin’. an’ cuz it was me, it ended up bein’ more bullshit.”**

She frowned and chewed her lip.

“Nervous, huh?”

 **He found himself unable to lie. Unable to deflect even with the lamest of jokes, not when he could** **_hear_ ** **her on the end of the line.**

**“well, uh… heh...”**

**He shrugged although she couldn't see it, and cleared his throat.**

**“guess there's not much point in me runnin’ my mouth, anyway. only covers up what i’m tryin’a hear.”**

“You don’t have to talk,” the agreement was breathless. Something from earlier sprang to mind. “Before, you… when I started sucking you off. You apologised…”

That detail had slipped her mind after the fact, but it was a positively beguiling one, on her side at least. Why it had happened wasn’t as important as the power it had conferred over him.

**“fuck, i don't remember what i said, dils. all i knew was nobody in their right mind woulda done what you did, so i must’ve still been fuckin’ up somehow.”**

**He squinched his eyes shut, earnestness always leaving a bad taste in his mouth.**

**“but that's not, uh… anyway, you were sayin’? an’ i was listening. hard.”**

It stayed silent for a moment while she took the rumble of his voice in, slightly pinched though it was. Breath huffed into the receiver.

“Sans…”

There was a lot of pity intoned in his name, and if that was inappropriate right now, well, he’d just have to deal with it.

“What do you want to hear?” She wrapped one arm around the phone to hold it tilted to her face. Hearing him was enough of a distraction to hold masturbating at a more languid pace. “‘Cuz, so far we’ve been saying just… well, stuff _I_ wanted to say…” Another huff. “I really... really like you.”

 **“uh,”** **_can’t breathe shit shit can’t think_ ** **“same.”**

**His palm cracked across his forehead.**

**“that wasn't s’posed to... fuck. sorry, no, yeah. i like you… too.”**

**He slid to the floor, melting inasmuch as bones ever do.**

**“i’m… fuck, really?”**

**Laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, he began to laugh, silently at first, then louder as he mentally scolded himself for being such an idiot, his erection bobbing around with each wheezy exhalation.**

She joined in laughing, softly. Slightly guarded, but sharing in his relief.

Damn. That had been the one thing that shouldn’t have come up, not this soon, but…. Oh. Cedilla bunched up and nuzzled the phone. A shiver went through her whole body, and her ears twitched.

“You don’t understand how badly I wish you were here. I’ve just,” she swallowed, but her throat was still dry. “I just wanna. Show you? Even a little bit of it.” She was whispering now. “I’ll do anything you want. I wish I could show you.”

**He let his shoulders fall slack until the phone fell onto the floor next to his head. He picked it back up after a full second of deep contemplation and covered the receiver.**

**“hey pap, i’m goin’ out,” he called.**

**“right, uh, so, remind me where you live, again?”**

“Huh?”

She frowned down the line and he didn’t elaborate. There was really only one reason to ask that question. But surely. He couldn’t want to put this on hold, surely. She reeled off a sequence of directions from their lab, referencing on whatever landmark he might best remember.

And out of nowhere, suddenly, there he was.

“Why, does th-- wh-- AHH--”

**“hey. hey…. hey, stop yelling, it's just me… what, is this a bad time? i mean, i assumed… ‘cuz you said...”**

**He became aware of the sweat dotting his forehead and rolling down his spine, and finally thought to regret his hasty decision to show up in her bedroom with as little warning as he had given her. He took a step back, but, with the commotion of his sudden appearance having died down, still eyed her hungrily, remembering the reason why he’d skipped the niceties.**

She blinked, panting even harder than she’d been before his voice had suddenly sounded much clearer than it had a second ago. After blinking enough to be reasonably sure this wasn’t some kind of lust hallucination, she pointed at him and slammed her hands on the mattress.

“I KNEW it. I _knew it_! I knew there was something going on with you! I knew you had something… big… up your… down your… pants… or…” her eyes travelled down his body. Which didn’t take long. “Or… out of them…”

She stared.

“Fucking hell, man.”

**He took a tentative step forward. “nice place.”**

**Not that he’d really noticed, but it was just the thing to say, in these circumstances. Just polite. If you’re going to appear suddenly in someone’s bedroom and have them start screaming at you, you should at least compliment their tasteful decorating.**

**She’d taken this well, considering.**

**He inched forward.**

**“so, uh, anyway. you were saying?”**

Here he was. The monster of her literal dreams. Sliding across physical space somehow with his dick out and pointing out decor she’d basically never paid any attention to.

That. Was it. Something had to be said about this.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she couldn’t help keeping her eyes on the bobbing blue phallus she’d helped create (right?) even while her tone turned dry. “You let me wind you up, you make… I don’t know how much effort to get over here, by the look of you I’d say you wanted the same thing I do, and _that’s_ what you ask me?

She drew herself up high on her knees, wings buzzing intermittently. His demeanor betrayed nothing of the coursing emotions and arousal she’d been trying to hard to cultivate but had ended up with herself. A slight sneer let her bare fangs.

“Did you want to fuck or was I confused? You pick and _tell me_.”

**He shrunk back a bit, shoulders tensing. “...yeees?”**

**He cleared his throat. “uh, yeah. yup. that was not a question. just, how do you wanna… i mean, i dunno how to, uh. start. should i- forget it, uh.”**

**The mattress dipped in in the middle on the edge where they both sat. He looked up to where she was still on her knees in high dudgeon beside him and gulped, though her expression had softened in the last few moments.**

**“maybe, uh, maybe come down here, a bit. you’re all the way up there,” he said, softly.**

She half thought about asking for forgiveness for being so tense, but, god. Not when he sounded like that, not right now.

She settled down, legs folding, and her hands landing on his chest, pushing him down too. Just forceful enough to carry a slight edge of continued annoyance, she made his back hit the bed and leaned over him, twitching with short wing flutters.

Her expression went wide at the closeness, of being on top of him, for a moment his passiveness didn’t matter.

“Gnn… thank god you weren’t still wearing those glasses,” she grunted and snuffled her nose into his neck to dig out even sections of shoulder plate that could be kissed.

**“welp, this qas fun, g’bye,” he said, faking a roll towards the edge of the bed. But the motion left his sensitive vertebrae even more exposed and he sucked in a breath when she found them, scratching at the sheets.**

**It was the second time that day that he had been on the receiving end of her soft, careful touches, and even having experienced them once before, still he was gasping, and she hadn’t even ventured below his ribcage yet. Of course, this was different. He’d been led to this so carefully, he could see that, and he was risking exactly nothing, except for the fact that he’d been in the room a grand total of 45-ish seconds and he’d already made an ass of himself, but then again, he was in bed, being worked on by this gorgeous creature, and, well. It all balanced out in the end, was the idea, and he was giddy.**

**He gave in at last, though there was nothing much left to give in** **_to_ ** **, now that everything was, more or less, on the table, and lifted his hands to roam all over her body above him, raking through her fur and grabbing gentle fistfuls.**

That was, at last, more like it. She was keenly aware that Sans had turned pretty much helpless. Splayed out, taking everything he was offered and squirming - the hands raking her fur felt good, and she wondered if he might pull on something.

Right now, he seemed too in over his head to conceive of the idea.

So she sat back on her haunches, sighed, and took him in. Relishing that this was finally happening. Maybe this amount of power, in the absence of his own initiative, was a little dangerous for her. He could stop and wait, right?

“Holy shit, look at you,” she breathed. He was blushing, his smile did that thing where it wrinkled up when he was nervous, and he looked so fucking hot. “I knew it’d look good having you in my bed but, hold up. I gotta appreciate this.”

**He scoffed at this, smirk hanging lopsided and twitching, but blushed even harder and somehow managed to sink even further into the mattress.**

**“that's prob’ly ‘cuz all my best angles are lyin’ down.”**

**He felt the sheets beneath him begin to absorb some of the considerable heat and sweat his body was producing. He was a mess. Meanwhile, she was mussed, certainly, but in a way he found so sexy and appealing it made him want to finish the job. But goddamn her, she looked so fucking smug, sitting on top of him and making him wait. He had to remind himself to breathe, and then he had to remind himself that he didn't strictly** **_need_ ** **to breathe.**

**His hands lifted a few inches off the mattress before his own uncertainty and, operatively, the futility of trying to make Cedilla literally hurry the fuck up when she was so clearly enjoying doing exactly as she liked with him, returned his bunched-up fists to his sides.**

Her tail was twitching. So was one ear, and her wings were doing their own little buzz every so often. Those signs of agitation couldn’t be hidden no matter how calm she wanted to look.

Nevertheless, there was still so much to enjoy about this, having him finally pinned down and just waiting to be dealt with was nothing to rush though. After all, she’d technically been waiting since the morning to do something for herself, a few more minutes were easy after that. Him, though?

“Hey, Sans,” she chuckled, watching him shuffle in impatience. It was rhetorical, just to prove aloud that this was a real thing that was actually happening. She clamped her knees either side of his body and leaned down to him. She didn’t for a second look away from his reaction. One hand found its way back to his bottom rib and resumed that slight touch it had learned earlier that day, while she leaned the other arm over his head and met his cheek with her lips. Then his nose, or rather, dotting around the gap where his nose would be.

She rolled her entire lower body into a buck against his crotch, but carried on trying to ignore the pressing matters down there and huffed against his chin. A chase between drawing air and making more kisses ensued, until she reached his mouth, giving the motion for a kiss against whatever motion his lips were pliable enough to make, but dipping her tongue out to catch the next opportunity when a movement of her hips would make him breathe or moan or both.

**His hands found their purpose at last, securing themselves on either side of her face, just below her ears. If he didn't know, couldn't feel that she was about to kiss him, he would have insisted on it, quite petulantly, even.**

**“heya, dil-mmph.”**

**If he hadn't already been in sensory overload, the kiss certainly crossed him over that line. She felt too fucking good, her weight on him grounding, her grinding on him wicked, and the thin wet line between them that she kept breaking and reconnecting with her movements driving him absolutely fucking insane, though not as much as the exquisite fractions of seconds during which her pussy** **_actually touched_ ** **him.**

**His body, lost to his mind, sought to make that happen again and his hips jerked into the air until the head of his cock ever so slightly lodged home.**

**And all the while, the only thing truly on his mind was the kiss.**

She kissed harder, more intently, until needing to breathe took precedence. The mood seemed to have changed in some way now - with him trying to buck so desperately there was no point being coy, and she wasn’t about to deny such an obvious request.

Pulling back from him, gasping, she sat back and wiggled. They were already nearly in the right position, so damn close, just a little shimmy of her ass as it slid down and--

The noise she made was… loud. That was one thick cock, as if she hadn’t discovered earlier, but knowing as much as it filled her up was an exquisite level of satisfaction.

So much so that she forgot to move, and just sank down onto it gradually, haltingly and cautious, before spilling out his name again in a gasp of reverence. She moaned like something you’d find on a sleazy, well-worn video tape you didn’t want anyone to find.

“Nngrhg h h-- _Sans_ \-- oh, oh god--”

**Sans would later swear that, like the climactic scene in Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, he had a soundtrack of an angelic chorale and trumpets. Joking, naturally, because the truth was far better, and because the mere act of remembering the actual noises he heard coming from her tended to get him hard, instantly.**

**And that was the very least of it.**

**He had, quite literally, never felt anything like it, and certainly nothing as good. In fact,** **_good_ ** **was at once the wrong word and the only word to describe the way she felt. The sensation overtook him and just when he thought he’d be satisfied to remain like that forever, she moved and her tightness gripped him. It was exquisite, but within seconds he already felt he couldn’t appreciate it without wanting more. It was dizzying, almost painful how much he needed her to just** **_go_ ** **.**

**His hands settled on her hips and pulled her back down onto him with unusual and alarming speed, and they both cried out.**

**“sorry, sorry, did i hurt-”**

“Oh no! No--” she grunted and shimmied on him, trying to more comfortably settle. “Nooo no no no. That’s really good. Show me--”

Leaning down, she nuzzled against his cheek and couldn’t help a grinding motion to ease the ache. Fast breathing brushed into his shoulder.

“Show me how fast you wanna go, it’s all you. And um… don’t worry about… hurting me,” she was hiding from him sheepishly at this point.

**He glanced towards her, her head hidden from view, and took her at her word. Gathering his remaining strength and energy, he bucked up into her from underneath, thrusts so quick and so deep they seemed impossible, and was promptly and loudly rewarded for his efforts with  a squeal.**

“F- _uck_!”

It was so much all at once. After waiting so long for him to respond, and after the whole day of waiting for this and further weeks of picturing this moment whenever he was around… well, she was not disappointed.

Driving against him in tandem thrust him in to a depth, and at a fervour, not previously experienced, and she definitely wanted to express that later. For now though it was nearly asking too much to keep breathing, little wings flapping as if trying to join in the effort.

She swore again, and chanted his name on a gradual crescendo that was hardly done intentionally. In helping to sink him in she moaned like before, similar to the noises you’d have to pay somebody to get, whenever his dick hit a particularly deep spot, or just as enthusiastically if it caused a slight jolt of pain.

**She took over with such ardency that he hardly noticed the moment his unwieldy thrusts from beneath her gave way to him doing what he did very best in this world -- lying still on his back and doing absolutely nothing -- but with the added perk of taking everything she was giving him, tantalizing perspective study of the line down her back, included.**

**He groaned and whimpered in response to her moans and grunts, and soon enough let his jaw hang slack so that any sound he might need to make had an open passageway.**

**“ghh, fuck, dils, i’m so -- fucking,** **_fuck_ ** **! god, that’s good, you’re so good and i’m so** **_agh!_ ** **i’m so, i’m so--”**

**“--Close?” she murmured, breath heavy with exertion and arousal in his ear.**

  **“--stupid.”**

**She hovered over him, lifting her head to look him in the eyes, (always that concern) and he cursed his stupid mouth both for starting and for not finishing his thought because it was that same touching concern that was now allowing the breeze to reach his dick, and there weren’t a great many things higher up on his list of priorities at that moment, except perhaps finally maybe having a hand in getting to watch her come.**

**“shoulda had ya catch me jackin’ off at work weeks ago.”**

She pressed her nose under his jaw, muffling the breathy laughter. It had got to the point where it could only be more air than giggles anyway.

“Hope you weren’t… for that long… without me.”

Hard to talk, but easier to kiss him and she really, really wanted to. Were there boundaries for how much kissing you could do in spontaneous boning? Her lips were already on his, locking him down, and it didn’t end. It was a ‘ _you’re not stupid_ ’ kiss. She held it as well as was possible while bottoming out his dick in her repeatedly - it was all leg power, and they would not get tired.

The moment that kiss broke, her brows had caught up in concern and desperation, and she was gasping.

“‘M gon-- gonna-- fuuuuck-- Sans--” a plea, nothing more to it. Don’t go, don’t move. Stay there and let this happen. Her thrusts changed from rough and long to a close, barely-moving final shudder - her arms around his eagerly, at his neck and on his head, she attempted to complete his name over and over, without much success. 

**Had he been upright, a feather could have knocked him over, so it was fortunate that he was secured to the bed as he was, laboring each and every breath in total shock.**

**“are y- are you really--?”**

**Something coiled inside of him as he watched her and felt her that he would have to deal with later, as it had absolutely nothing to do with--**

**\--his impending orgasm slamming into him all at once: “--cedilloh shit, fuck** **_, fuck! ceh. dih….”_ **

**He held onto her for dear life as he shook, gasping for air as his entire body flinched inward, his shoulders even rocking off the mattress.**

If she fought enough to keep presence of mind, while slamming her well-rounded hips into his and holding them there, she could push through the muscle spasms and remember to get up and take a look at him.

The downside of mutual orgasms. She pushed up on her hands and threw her head back, panting so hard her tongue was lolling out, just to make sure she could see his face. He was all scrunched up, curling into himself. Beautiful. With a satisfied moan, she joined him.

Just keeping his dick lodged in deep, making him push against the right spot, that right there was heaven, and once the roll of pleasure started to cascade she started grabbing, pawing at him, fingers running up and down his ribs and into the gaps wildly.

**It should have been over, and yet it was not. Too soon after he’d just begun, the last throbs left him, but his cock would not concede defeat. His cum defied gravity for the surface tension allowed by the perfect taction of how he fit so neatly inside her. And she had come to that point as well, he had felt as much and had hardly been able to believe, but still she was touching him. It was a great deal more than he was able to bear silently or without a fight.**

**Unable to laugh or shout or moan or adequately choose one method of expressing exactly what this ceaseless touching was doing to him, what** **_she_ ** **was doing to him, he babbled out some form of all of those, his voice cracking as he squirmed. He bellowed at a volume generally reserved for really bad toe stubbings or when he’d knocked his funny bone into something. Well, his other funny bone, usually. And then, in turn, he’d whisper desperate pleas to stop, to keep going, to put him out of his** **_fucking_ ** **misery,** **_god, fuck,_ ** **and every now and again choking out a laugh, because A. what else was he gonna do, and B. it kind of tickled in the same way that putting your hand on a hot stove kind of stings.**

**It was a lot, after all. It was so much.**

The noises she was making had reached the point of something you never wanted anyone or even yourself to hear, ever. It didn’t even occur to hope he wasn’t paying attention, her level of awareness was so shallow and murky. She was clinging to him for dear life and touching anything that made itself available.

And eventually the wave finished crashing, it was gradually ridden out. Senses began to filter back. The bulk of him under her, the intensifying weight of heavy, exhausted limbs.

She flopped down and rolled off of him, freeing their connection, but immediately reached back to get some sensation again, an arm awkwardly cupping his head somehow. She was gasping, addled, but starting to grin again after the serious intensity.

Had they really just?

Cedilla sat up, all too fast, head swaying slightly like it would tip off-balance. She raised both arms and bent into a dab before falling back down onto bed and bones again. She nuzzled her nose into his hard cheek and sighed with total contentment.

**What a sap he was.**

**One good-- no, one** **_spectacular_ ** **fuck and a post-coital dab was all it took for him to get all sentimental, for him to start tossing Big Words around in his subconscious, for him to look at her all goofy and dazed.**

**He took a long, steady inhale to try to get his shortness of breath under control.**

**His grin curled up on one side, suddenly remembering.**

**“so i never got to ask ya in return… what's my, uh… ranking?”**

One hand was on his head, circling patterns on his skull. It was unclear whether such familiarities were part of this arrangement, so, better get that in while the opportunity was there. She rolled onto her back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Haha… um.”

Breathlessness was wavering, and there was so much she could say.

“Best I’ve ever had.”

The statement hung there while she listened to his breathing and her own and found a certain desire to hold onto this moment. It was true, after all, it’d never felt quite like this.

“You wanna… um… maybe again, sometime…?”

**“w- uh, yeah… ‘fcourse. and uh, you're welcome.”**

**He let himself be shoved, gently.**

**“there's way more where that came from,” he said, snickering, but then his grin fell.**

**“unless you meant right now, cuz uh, i don't actually think i can… you've worn me out. i’m a little uh, rusty, i guess.”**

**_Shit_ ** **, he shouldn't have said that. It wasn't even strictly** **_true._ ** **Not unless an** **_extremely_ ** **late bloomer can be called ‘rusty’.**

“N-no, not--” she laughed; maybe he was joking, that was almost never clear, “noooot right now. Heh. I mean, how long’s it, uh…”

**“oh. uh, hmm. let's see, uh…” he counted off on his fingers. “six, seven, eight, n- uh, yeah, never. …never.”**

**He shut his eyes and held his breath.**

She looked at him. He wasn’t looking back. Only just had a repetition in disbelief been avoided, but that would’ve seemed rather mean. She blinked and looked aside as the new context for the evening sank in.

Clearly he didn’t want this brought up.

She leaned onto him, barely missing his mouth with a kiss. For what, reassurance maybe? She really wasn’t sure. Then a light of realisation blazed on.

“...You’re telling me I get you all to myself, huh?”

**“if that's how you wanna look at it,” he said, peeking out of one eye and relaxing a bit.**

**“it's just never worked out, before. you're the first person to ever really wanna give me a go, so uh… thanks.”**

**He shrugged, his shoulder lightly brushing her fur, and he allowed himself the freedom to snuggle up against her, if only just.**

She snuggled back. Wrapped around him fully, wings beating with an occasional happy flutter. Catching up on whatever aspect of ceremony seemed to be missing, here, or however it would’ve gone - she got distracted by the thought that this would, for now, be his only experience-- that when asked about his first, that would always and forever now be… this.

Well. Or the unasked for sucking off in a closet.

“If you want,” she started, mouth ahead of her brain, “I could… I’ll. I won’t ah, bring anyone else… back. While we’re, y’know. Just… just you.”

She squirmed slightly, rubbing her legs together and still getting used to the stickiness.

“You know where I’ll be, here, so you can just… pop in. Haha-- that was great-- yeah, pop in and we’ll do some stuff and it’ll… just be you. If you want.”

**“that'd be cool.”**

**He meant that and was already set to work daydreaming about the next time he would actually take her up on it, yes, just him, but found that deeper still, something was missing, something was still not being said, and the more his mind clawed at it, the more conspicuously he felt the air its absence left in the conversation. But without knowing what it was, he could only follow easier clues, like the fact that she'd left herself wide open to a bit of gentle teasing about her reputation.**

**“wouldn't want you to hafta put your whole social life on hold for little ol’ me, though. how many folks‘re we talking about you havin’ to cancel on?”**

Her grin vanished.

“Oh, god. I have so many people to call.”

Another playful pap at him, barely brushing his shoulder.

“Pffft. I don’t have a _schedule_ , Sans. And anyway, nobody. I mean, nobody important.” She stared up at the ceiling again. “Is Gaster important?”

When he didn’t reply right away, she rolled towards him and started inspecting his ribs with a more slow curiosity than they’d been used to thus far, testing their firmness and then leaving a trail of kisses along his side.

**Still so, so sensitive, his laugh sounded frantic.**

**“ah-- haha! heh, gaster, uh, good one. good one… funny.”**

**He was fully aware she might not have been actually joking, but since he was not in a wallowing mood, was in fact still very much basking in the afterglow, he buried all thoughts of that possibility for the time being.**

**He shivered, the sweat cooling his bones so much that even where they were curled up together, he wasn't able to absorb enough body heat from her.**

**Reluctantly, and feebly, he sat up, reaching for the tangle of her bedclothes.**

**“ya mind? ‘m feelin’ kinda like a meat sauce on a weiner…” he paused for effect, then- “i’m a little chili, dawg.”**

There was a moment where she stared at him faithfully, the joke having no visible effect on her expression of warmth and devoted attention. She reached to help him with the blankets and, without moving eye contact, lifted the ruffled sheets up and over, papping them down around his head so that he was covered completely from view.

She curled up beside the Sans-shaped blob.

This _did_ make it a little easier to ask something she knew had to come out eventually.

“Uhh, do you… have to get back somewhere…?”

**“nah. ya tryin’ to get rid o’ me? ‘cuz, fair warning, if not, i’m about to pass out. you just doomed me with a tuck-in. i’m never comin’ out of here.”**

**He pulled the covers down just enough to peek out.**

**“not without some** **_serious_ ** **incentive.”**

**He waggled his eyebrows.**

“Just _checking_ ,” she winked at him, “because once I get in, you aren’t going anywhere.”

A small burst of energy had her hopping into the air, limbs loose, floating off the bed. She surveyed him, much like earlier, with no animosity this time.

“That’s my bed and you’re still in it.”

She hadn’t meant to say that with a note of surprise. Honestly, this was different. Most other affairs she could remember could’ve been fun but often left unsolved the biggest reason for having them, which she wouldn’t have minded telling him - she didn’t like to be alone. But they’d go, or they’d decline the offer of something to drink and not come in, and Sans was, well, here. And that was unusual. This left her just as out of her depth as he had presumably been.

And he might even come _back_. She was already thinking about teasing him further on that, and making sure he knew how tantalizing it was to imagine him being able to snap in no matter what she was doing and demand-- well. Ask? Something like that.

Cedilla floated away. She did a little cleaning up (one word that made his admission of inexperience hard to believe in the first place, and that word was ‘copious’), finished her nightly routine, and tapped off all the lights in the small dwelling before returning. She hadn’t touched the ground once.

Unsure whether Sans was still awake, she settled beside him and dug under the covers gently, then shuffled in to spoon him.

“Don’t thank me,” she mumbled sleepily, on the offchance that he wasn’t. “You’re incredible.”

**“mm, source?” he asked, yawning and wriggling against her.**

**She was warm, and soft, and comforting, and he really,** **_really_ ** **liked her, and he was snoring before she even had a chance to answer.**

“A peer review of my emotions published in the journal of This Pussy,” was the very dozy eventual reply.

What followed was the deepest sleep of Sans’s life. He only woke to the sound of an alarm, which was swiftly bashed onto snooze by the owner of all the fur he was tangled up in. Realisation of where he was jolted him into full consciousness instantly, as well as the reality of needing to retrieve his clothes before work.

He picked himself carefully out of bed and disappeared without allowing himself to think about it too much. He’d be seeing her pretty soon, anyway.

The noise he made clattering around his own home, trying to quickly clean off that previous night’s sweat and locate fresher clothes, threw any ideas about keeping this excursion under wraps out of the window. He barrelled straight into Papyrus in the hallway.

“OH. HELLO! MORNING! YOU KNOW, I FIGURED IT OUT.”

He couldn’t quite tilt his head up enough to look at his brother directly.

“wh-- yeah? what? what’s that?”

“SECTS!”

“oh, uhh… you still on that? what was it, 42 down-”

“NO, NO. THE PUZZLE OF WHERE YOU WENT LAST NIGHT!” Papyrus beamed, giving Sans a cheeky elbow in the ribs, which he had to lean down to do. “SEX! NICE ONE, I KNEW YOU’D GET THERE EVENTUALLY. DON’T WORRY, I’LL LEAVE YOU THE BATHROOM!”

And Sans was left in a mortified pile as Papyrus continued with his day. 

**Author's Note:**

> POST-SCRIPT
> 
>  
> 
> They fuckt a LOT until the Core Thing and then they never spoke again. peace
> 
>  


End file.
